


Regrets

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Series: Regrets & Recovery [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-04
Updated: 2002-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 00:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy discovers too late that she made the wrong choices in love... A dark fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regrets

_“I can’t take it anymore!” Buffy screamed, batting away the hand that held her arm. “Just let me go._ Please _?”_

 _His brow furrowed for a second, and he looked pained, lost. She’d seen that look before. In her own eyes every time she looked in the mirror. And once in another’s…_

* * *

“You’re beneath me.”

“The only chance you ever had with me was when I was unconscious.”

“You’re an evil, disgusting thing.”

“You were just…convenient.”

“I’m using you. And it’s killing me.”

“Ask me again why I could never love you.”

* * *

 _“Buffy, just calm down,” he pleaded with her._

 _“No,” she shook her head, backing away. “This is wrong. This never should have happened.”_

 _He looked at her with stunned horror and disbelief. Then, “You_ bitch _! You cheap and manipulative bitch! This is all about_ him _, isn’t it? You know, he warned me about you, but I was too foolish to listen. He said you were—”_

 _“Stop!” she screamed, hands over her ears. “Just…let me go,” she sobbed, brushing past him and slipping out the back door._

 _Numbly, he watched the screen door slam closed. He had known this was coming. It was only a matter of time. Yet, somehow, he’d thought that he could change things. But he had always known this was fated. She didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong anywhere anymore…_

* * *

“Buffy, stop,” Spike pleaded, grabbing hold of her wrist and stopping her in mid-tracks.

She tried in vain to keep walking away, but his grip was unbreakable. “Don’t touch me,” she whimpered, resorting to dirty tactics.

Instantly, his hand flew back from her as if it had been burned. As if showing her how he could restrain himself now would take back _that_ night.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered, his voice frightened, guilty, pained.

“I told you not to tell me that,” she informed him coolly.

“I-I didn’t mean…”

But she had taken off again before he could finish.

“Buffy, stop!” he repeated, leaping in front of her this time to block her path but being careful to stay well out of arm’s reach.

“Get out of my way,” she demanded sharply.

“Not until I have my say,” he insisted. “An’ this time you’re going to bloody well _listen_ to what I have to say.”

She rolled her eyes. “I caught you, Spike,” she stated. “Red-handed. There’s no getting out of this one.”

“See?” His eyes narrowed. “You’re not listenin’. You’re just jumpin’ to conclusions like last time…”

Buffy felt a slight pang of guilt at that one. It hadn’t been until seven months later when The Doctor became a problem in Sunnydale again that she realized that Spike really had been innocent of all charges. Well, except running up a heaping gambling debt with the wrong people.

She crossed her arms in front of herself. “I’m listening,” she said with venom in her voice.

“They’re not evil,” Spike blurted out as quickly as he could. “They don’t hunt. An’ they’ve got their souls.”

Buffy’s eyebrow raised at this. “How?” she asked out of pure scientific curiosity – something that few people knew that she even possessed.

Spike was one of those people. He didn’t even blink in surprise. “Initiative escapee. Whatever they did to him…everyone he tried to turn ended up with a soul. Finally managed to track ‘im down an’ end the insanity last month.”

“So you naturally decided to start up your own little gang?” Buffy exclaimed in disbelief.

He ducked his head and looked down at his boots in distracted fascination. “Didn’t mean to help,” he confessed sheepishly, “but once I ran across ‘em an’ figured out why they weren’t cuttin’ it in the demon world…I couldn’t help but sympathize.”

“They didn’t look out of their minds to me,” Buffy countered bitterly.

Spike frowned at the stunning example of dementia his souled self had been and glanced nervously to the side. “They didn’t have any place to go,” he said softly. “They were trapped between worlds, scared an’ alone an’—”

“Oh, knock it off,” she said angrily, shoving him to the side. “I don’t what you were planning, but quit trying to play the hero. You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

“’m not a hero,” Spike insisted, turning and rapidly trying to catch up with her. “’m just tryin’ to help is all. I thought I was doin’ the right thing…”

“You wouldn’t know the right thing if it came up and staked you through the heart,” she retorted.

“I know you,” he said so softly it was almost a whisper.

Buffy stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him. “Don’t,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare say it. There’s _nothing_ between us, and there never was. And I will never, _ever_ touch you again.”

And, with that, she stormed off into the night.

* * *

 _Buffy had forgotten how quickly it got dark this time of year. The streets were empty by the time she neared the Bronze, a strong purpose in her step. The familiar sign cast an orange glow over the street before the club, making the alleyway look dirty and sickly. The bouncer at the door let her in without a second look. After all, it was free Tuesday night._

 _She stepped into the milling throngs of youths and shut her eyes for a second, inhaling the familiar scents and letting the incessant noise wash over her._

 _So many memories of this place, both good and bad… First meetings, cataclysmic discoveries, turning points…_

 _She briefly allowed her eyes to turn to the balcony overhead. Almost as if time itself stripped away before her very eyes, she could see herself there. Younger. More foolish. And him behind her, whispering in her ear, trying desperately to make her understand, showing her just how wonderful they could be together…_

 _She shook her head and bit back a tear at her youthful folly. There was no changing the past. What was done was done._

 _But it was fitting that she would visit here on the last night of her life. This place where so much had fallen apart and come together…_

* * *

“Congrats, Red,” Spike said with a small smile and a near blush.

Willow gave him a broad grin and then unexpectedly pulled him into the hug that she and Dawn were sharing. The jarring motion nearly knocked the mortarboard off of her head, but Spike’s lightning quick reflexes caught it before it could hit the ground.

“Here,” he plopped it back on her head. It wasn’t technically possible, but the vampire’s face flushed bright red.

“I think he’s about to pass out from embarrassment,” Vicky commented wryly over her wineglass.

Willow chuckled at gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks for coming, Spike,” she smiled.

He hemmed and hawed, and Willow, Vicky, and Dawn laughed at him.

“You are _such_ a poof,” Dawn teased, her cheeks flushed with delight.

Spike mock-scowled at her and flashed his fangs.

The teenager merely yawned in response.

“One of these days ‘m gonna rip all their hearts out, an’ then we’ll see who’s not scary…” Spike grumbled under his breath.

Only Vicky’s enhanced hearing allowed her to make out the words. “Aw, poor baby,” she cooed. “C’mere.”

His eyes shot daggers, and a low growl sounded in his throat before he stalked over to her in as menacing and predatory manner as he could. “Don’t need your bleedin’ sympathy,” he hissed, nose to nose with her.

She gave him a tight-lipped smile of annoyance and bushed him back to take another sip of her drink.

“Woah!” Buffy said, running up to break up what looked to be fast becoming an unpleasant scene. And there was just no way she was going to let Spike and that irritating bitch that always insisted on hanging around ruin Willow’s graduation party. “Knock it off. Both of you.”

Spike raised one eyebrow, and Vicky managed to do the impossible and snort in a ladylike manner. Buffy frowned at the gesture mostly because she wished she could pull it off as well as the vampiress did.

“They weren’t causing any problem,” Willow insisted, hastily stepping to her two friends’ defense. “We were just goofing off.”

Buffy looked at her best friend skeptically but shrugged. “Fine,” she conceded disinterestedly, “but if either of you causes any trouble…”

“Hey, look, Buffy,” Dawn quickly yanked her sister away and dragged her over to the dance floor. “Anya’s here. We should stop and say ‘hi’.”

Buffy decided not to protest.

The vengeance demon’s eyes lit up when she saw Dawn, and the two shared a hug that was way too hyperactive in Buffy’s opinion. She hung back a little, still uncomfortable with Anya ever since she had become Anyanka once more…even if she didn’t do curses anymore.

“It’s been _forever_!” Dawn was babbling. “So where were you?”

Anya’s eyes flew heavenward. “I swear I just came from the most boring dimension in the multiverse. It makes _North Dakota_ look like a haven of excitement and culture…”

Buffy inched away from the conversation, not really wanting to hear all about the vengeance demon’s latest inter-dimensional road trip. She was stuck in Sunnydale for life and she knew it. There was no point in hearing about all the other places she could go and visit…even if they _were_ boring as all hell. It was the fact that she’d never get to discover that they were boring for herself that brought the twinge of regret to her heart.

“I could handle it for you,” a voice interrupted her reveries.

She spun around to see that Spike had somehow managed to sneak up behind her like he always did. She was too startled for a second to register that he had spoken and stared dumbly for a minute before an eloquent “huh?” escaped her lips.

“Hold the fort,” he clarified. “Keep the nasties from openin’ up the Hellmouth while you had yourself a nice, long vacation.”

“Like I could trust you with the Hellmouth,” she scoffed.

Pain flashed in his eyes for a second before he covered it up with his usual cocky smirk. “Could go with you then,” he teased. “Go off an’ get ourselves a nice honeymoon suite at one ‘f those posh hotels…”

She stiffened. “It won’t do you any good,” she said, her voice icy. “You think I’m going to fall in love with you just because you agreed to help me out?”

“No,” he said calmly, lighting the cigarette between his lips. “I thought you looked like you needed a bit of R an’ R is all. Maybe go to England, see the Watcher, check out Europe a bit while you’re at it…”

“You have no idea what I need,” she informed him.

He held up his hands in front of himself in surrender. “Was just offerin’, luv,” he insisted. “No need to get your knickers in a twist.”

“You wish,” she retorted.

“The truth,” he said with a sly smile.

“Spike, just go away,” she said wearily. “Get out of my life.”

He frowned at that, thinking deeply about something for so long she began to grow nervous.

“Spike?” she finally asked tentatively. “What is it?”

His eyes met hers, and she gasped at the hurt and anger and desire and love and every other emotion that was in those beautiful blue depths.

“Buffy…” he began softly, taking her hand in his.

She was so mesmerized by his eyes for a second that she wasn’t able to pull away right away. She made up for it when she finally did, though, by jerking her hand with additional disgust in the gesture.

Surprisingly, he didn’t fight her. “Buffy,” he began again, his voice calmer this time as if he’d reached a decision, “there’s somethin’ ‘ve got to talk to you about.”

“We’ve got nothing to talk about, Spike,” she insisted firmly.

He cocked his head to one side and looked at her intently. “We’ve got this,” he finally said. “Buffy, I love you, an’ you know I love you…”

“Stop. Now.” Her eyes flashed with outrage. “I told you it was over,” she hissed. “I don’t love you. I will never love you. You will never get close to me again.”

“Please, pet,” he raised one hand to silence her. “’ve heard this all before. Let me finish.”

“There’s nothing to finish.” Buffy turned from him, but he caught her shoulder roughly, spinning her back around to face him.

“Why won’t you ever listen to me?” he asked desperately.

“Maybe because nothing that comes out of your mouth is worth listening to,” she retorted sarcastically.

“Look, luv,” he said, letting out a sigh of exasperation. “Jus’ let me talk for one minute. Just one minute, an’ then ‘ll leave you alone.”

“One minute,” Buffy agreed reluctantly.

“An’ no interruptin’ even if you don’t like some of the stuff?”

“Spike, what is it now?” she sighed in irritation.

“OK, here goes,” he closed his eyes and took a deep, unnecessary breath. “Buffy, I love you,” he began again. “’ve loved you for a long time now despite everythin’ that’s happened between us…”

She bit her lip and didn’t interrupt, but only because she’d promised not to.

“I know we…” he flinched slightly, “…say a lot of things to each other we don’ mean.” He held up one finger before she could even open her mouth to insist that she meant every word. “But, see, the thing is…I think ‘ve found someone else.”

And now she was just too dumbfounded to speak. A strange, numb feeling began spreading through her stomach suddenly ripping away all that delicious heat that rose within her whenever he was near.

He laughed sheepishly, looking anywhere but at her, so he didn’t notice her reaction to this news. She barely managed to cover it up in time.

“Unbelievable, I know,” he said with a rueful grin, “an’ you’ve prob’ly guessed who…”

Who? Buffy’s mind was drawing a complete blank. It was her. It was always her. Always the two of them. Who could possibly have wormed her way in and…?

“Yeah, ‘s Vicky,” he admitted. “Funny, huh? Me goin’ for a souled vampire after how much I hated bein’ one, but she’s… Well, she’s a lot like you, actually,” he said with a small smile. “She knows just how to rub me the wrong way. It’s like I look into her eyes and see myself, y’know?”

Buffy managed to nod in a slow daze.

“An’ we all know how irritatin’ I can be,” he joked lightly.

Somehow, she managed to pull off a smile. That was the nice thing about the mask she’d set up around herself: it worked on autopilot.

He paused for a second, unsure of his next statement. “Sh-She told me she loved me last night,” he finally confessed nervously, “an’ I know I could love her, too, if ‘d just let myself…” He looked at her expectantly.

“What?” she demanded harshly, desperately concealing the sinking feeling inside of her.

“Buffy…” He took her hand once more, and this time she didn’t fight it. “I need to know the truth. I need to know ‘f we’ve got even the slightest chance left. ‘Cause I still love you, an’ I won’t leave you as long as—”

His cheek stung with the force of the slap.

“H-How _dare_ you?!” Buffy exclaimed, outraged. “Did you actually think I would fall for this?! Give me an ultimatum and suddenly I’d jump into your arms?!”

“It’s not like that!” he insisted. “I jus’ wanted to—”

“Oh, this is low,” she hissed. “This is the lowest thing you’ve ever done, and you’ve rolled around in the mud a lot in your time.”

“Fine,” he said, his voice strangely calm. “I just wanted to know ‘f there was anythin’ left between us that’s worth givin’ up this shot at happiness.”

“There’s nothing between us,” Buffy retorted. “There never was, and there never will be.” A small crowd was gathering around their little argument now, but Buffy didn’t care. “I don’t care what you do with yourself as long as you stay away from me. You’re _nothing_ to me!” She paused for breath and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it was anything but the kiss she received. He’d never kissed her like that before. It was so soft, the barest brush against her lips. His lips stroked hers gently, tenderly, making love to hers. Her body melted at his kiss, and she unconsciously clutched her hands in his leather duster, trying to pull him in deeper.

Instead, he pulled away, a tear in his eye.

She felt a bit weak in the knees at the absence of his touch. It felt like that kiss had gone on for hours, even though it probably hadn’t been more than a couple of seconds, and already she ached for it.

That cold numbness spread through her once again when he stepped away from her.

“Good-bye, Summers,” he said with odd formality, and then he was at the door, Vicky at his side and giving his head an affectionate pat when he leaned on her for comfort.

“Hey, Buffy,” Dawn said, grabbing her hand and pulling her from her stupor. “You OK?”

She nodded absentmindedly, still staring at the spot where he had said those fateful words, the tingle of his kiss remaining on her lips.

“Way to go, Buffster,” Xander gave her a friendly hug, confusing her to no end. “Finally got rid of the Bleached Stalker.”

“Yeah,” she managed with a small, false smile. “Yeah…”

* * *

 _Buffy avoided the spot where she had finally ended it with Spike once and for all. Instead, she retreated to the dark corner under the stairs. The memories of this place were so much more pleasant._

 _It occurred to her years later that this was where she’d first gone wrong. Just one quiet little talk between kisses, and she could have told him what she was feeling and asked him to take it slow with her, and maybe everything would have worked out better. She’d avoided this spot for years just because of that. And then she’d realized that she could have done it at any moment. He had forgiven her for everything. If she’d just talked to him once…_

 _She’d tried that night after he told her good-bye. She’d managed to slip away from Xander and his horrible cheerful attitude that Spike was finally going to stop loving her, and she’d run all the way back to his Clan’s hideout. No one had been in the main room of the abandoned convenience store, and the sounds echoing from the back made it perfectly clear why._

 _Tears stung in her eyes even now when she remembered hearing him cry out that he loved another woman at the height of his passion. Hell, he’d always been one to fall in love quickly…_

 _But now was not the time to dwell on such matters. Because someone had just stepped from the shadows to greet her. Someone whose pale skin and several-decades-out-of-date clothing betrayed his true identity all too clearly._

 _Buffy looked up and their eyes met…_

* * *

The instant Buffy’s eyes fell on his back, all the desire that had been bottled up inside her escaped in a sudden rush, making her dizzy with its intensity. This was most definitely not of the good. She’d expected a reaction, sure, but she didn’t think it would feel as if they had just parted ways yesterday.

Almost as if he could feel her gaze, Spike turned and looked up at her, and their eyes met…

And nothing.

He gave her a nod in greeting and then turned right back to whatever good-natured argument he and Vicky were currently involved in.

It hadn’t been there in his eyes.

The heat. The passion. The longing. The…love. All gone. Just a friendly nod, that was all that was left for him.

Buffy suddenly found herself hyperventilating. It felt as if she were having a heart attack. She bent over and put her hands on her knees and tried desperately to breathe and just make all the emotions within her _go away_.

“You OK?” Xander asked, concerned.

“Something just went down the wrong pipe,” she quickly covered, smiling sweetly at him.

“Uh, yeah,” he agreed slowly, glancing over to where Spike remained oblivious to her predicament. A slight frown marred his brow, but then he brushed it aside. He was just nervous, overreacting. And there was no way his fear was going to make him make the same mistake twice. “You know,” he teased lightly, “it’s bad luck for me to see you.”

“What part of ‘informal ceremony’ do you not get?” Buffy teased him lightly. She had to remember this. She loved Xander. He was her friend. He had been her friend for so long. He was like a brother to her… No, a _husband_ soon…

The priest they’d hired gestured to them that he was ready to begin, and everyone grew quiet.

All the Scoobies – past and present – surrounded the small altar with only a few notable exceptions. Angel had pleaded out, saying that he wasn’t quite sure he could handle her wedding yet. Cordy had stayed with him for support, although Buffy secretly suspected that she had similar reasons. Anya certainly had been blunt about the fact that she couldn’t stand to see Xander not run out on someone else. It had been a rather embarrassing confrontation really. Xander had cried nonstop for two days afterward.

But Spike had shown up. Riley had too, of course, but that one didn’t effect her so much. After all, he had been married for over six years now. But Spike…

He was behind Buffy throughout the entire ceremony so that she couldn’t see his face. Willow informed her after the fact that, no, he hadn’t cried or even looked sad. But she had felt him the entire time. She and Xander said their vows, and she felt him. Xander slipped the ring on her finger, and she felt him. The priest pronounced them husband and wife, and she felt him and only him. She didn’t even recall the quick peck she and Xander exchanged, she was so eager to turn around and see him again.

Of course, all their friends got in the way.

Riley had given her a quick hug and said something about how he was finally happy that she’d “made the right choice” that made her remember why she’d never fallen in love with him in the first place. Everyone shook her hand and congratulated her, and she was so overwhelmed that she didn’t notice he was in front of her until he had caught her shoulders to hold her steady on her feet.

“Well-wishers a bit formidable, aren’t they?” he said lightly, smiling at her fondly.

Her cheeks turned crimson at the feel of his cool hands on her shoulders, soothing her and making that sweaty panic that had been over her just a few seconds before recede. “It’s a jungle in here,” she said with false cheer.

“Slayer…” he began softly. “I hope you find it. Whatever you’re looking for, happiness or _normality_ or whatever…”

“I have,” she insisted just a bit too quickly, a catch in her voice.

Spike frowned slightly when he looked into her eyes, but then the inexorable tide pushed him back away from her.

Somehow, she and Xander made it to his car and got home. The door shut behind them with a note of finality, causing Buffy to wince and silently plead that when she turned around there would be a bleached blond vampire behind her. No such luck.

She and Xander had had sex for the first time that night. She had called out Spike’s name; he had called out Anya’s. They only bothered to do it four more times after that, letting their ‘marriage’ dissolve back into simple friendship.

* * *

 _“What’s a pretty little thing like you hanging out in the dark for?” the vampire said with a seductive smirk._

 _At least, most girls would probably think it was a seductive smirk. Buffy couldn’t help but compare it to Spike’s and find that this cheap replacement was exactly that._

 _“I like the dark,” she said with a coy smile, playing her part despite the numerous observations she made that screamed ‘not Spike!’_

 _“My kind of girl,” he gave her a wide grin and leaned in close. “You like to dance, too?”_

 _She nodded and took his offered hand. At least this one had a bit of style unlike most of the vamps she’d faced back when she was the Slayer…_

* * *

Five times.

And she’d been thinking about Spike every one.

It really shouldn’t have been enough to get her pregnant.

She hadn’t known yet when her powers faded, of course. She was only three weeks along when Giles finally tracked down one of The Strangers for her to consult about her sudden, alarming lack of Slayerness.

Like all somewhat mysterious beings with a tie in to the Powers That Be, The Stranger lived in a dark cave in a dark, mysterious place out in the middle of nowhere. In this case it was in the bayous of New Orleans. It was the first time Buffy had ever left California.

The Stranger himself was a short, plump, friendly…well, she wouldn’t say _man_ since she was pretty damn sure he wasn’t human, but he might as well have been for the kindness he showed her. He’d stuffed her full of the most addictive – and first – jambalaya she’d ever tasted before he even considered getting down to business.

Afterwards, they sat around a small fire in back of his house, and he smoked a long, narrow pipe lazily, with all the time in the world. Buffy watched the rings of smoke curl up to the sky and couldn’t help but recall that one time right after she’d come back from Heaven when Spike had kept her amused all afternoon by demonstrating his especially poor skills at blowing smoke rings. He’d laughed and said that 120 years probably wasn’t enough practice.

“What do you want, daughter?” The Stranger finally spoke, looking at her with wise, ancient eyes that had forgotten more than most mortals – and immortals as well – would even know.

“I-I’m the Slayer,” Buffy began hesitantly.

He nodded as if he had already known this and gestured for her to continue.

She took a deep breath and finally managed to spit it out. “I’ve lost my powers,” she nervously admitted.

He still just looked at her and nodded.

“I need them back!” she suddenly blurted out, her worry overcoming her. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Am I sick, or have I just outgrown it, or what?”

His brow furrowed slightly. “You chose to bury her,” he finally said, a bit of confusion in his voice.

Buffy stared at him blankly. “Huh?” she finally managed to get out.

“The Slayer,” he clarified. “You’ve turned her away. Of course you’ve lost your strength along with her.”

“What?” Buffy asked. “How?”

“Of course you wouldn’t know,” he slapped himself on the forehead. “No Slayer has achieved immortality for three thousand years. I should have remembered that,” he said, smiling at her apologetically.

“What?!” Buffy was more baffled now than before. “Immortality?”

He nodded. “You have come into the change. I take it you did not have a mate to help you through it?”

“I-I have a husband,” Buffy said nervously, “but we don’t know about any change.”

“A husband?” The Stranger’s eyebrows rose. “A human? Well, yes, that would do it, I suppose. The Slayer wouldn’t like that one bit. She’d run off to find a more suitable one to Choose.”

“ ‘More suitable’?” Buffy asked in disbelief.

“One that would take a true mate,” he clarified. “Surely you noticed at some point in time that humans and Slayers…er…weren’t _compatible_? They’re not meant to be mated.”

She blushed, unwilling to admit the truth of this statement. “But I’m human,” she protested.

“Not entirely true,” he informed her. “On the surface, perhaps, but deep down… You’ve honestly never felt drawn to them?” He seemed perplexed by this fact.

She didn’t even have to ask what ‘them’ he was referring to. Flashes of the brief blinding passion she’d had with Spike came rushing to her, along with a couple quick scenes of Angel. _“Vampires get you hot…”_ She’d ignored Spike after their first morning together, of course. It was disgusting. Filthy. _Wrong._

“It’s wrong,” she whispered defiantly.

The Stranger threw back his head and laughed at this. “Wrong?” he said amidst tears of mirth. “Why, the two of you were _made_ for each other – a little bit of light and a little bit of dark. You bring out the light, they bring out the dark, and together you find the Balance necessary…”

The rest of the trip had been something of a blur to tell the truth. All that time the same thought kept repeating over and over again in her head. _It wasn’t wrong. It was right. Spike and I were made to be together. Giles was wrong. The Watchers were wrong. Xander was wrong. None of them knew the Slayer’s true origin. Spike and I were made to be together. Spike and I were made to be together…_

She’d actually told Xander about what had happened when she got back. To her surprise, he wasn’t surprised in the least. Her Slayer powers never returned. And the week after that she realized that she hadn’t had her period in a long time…

* * *

 _Buffy sighed contentedly as replacement vamp’s cool arms wrapped around her waist, his body rocking against hers, slowly following the rhythm. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder and almost –_ almost _– could imagine that it was Spike holding her in the way that she’d never allowed him._

 _Lazily, she opened her eyes and – after a bit of searching – found the scar on his neck where he’d first been made. She kissed it gently, and he started in surprise, looking at her confusedly._

 _“I know what you are,” she whispered softly, returning her head to his shoulder._

 _He frowned, young and inexperienced and obviously very confused. “You do?” he finally said in disbelief. “Then why—?”_

 _“Shh…” she said. “Just dance…”_

* * *

She flopped down on the double bed across the room from Xander’s, and he only had to get one look at her face to know that their worst fears had been realized.

They lay like that for a while, the middle of the room seeming like a vast, endless expanse at that moment. Buffy couldn’t help but laugh. It was so much like those old TV shows where they had to show the married couple sleeping in two separate beds. That was what she had: a perfect TV relationship. Sure, the house lacked the requisite picket fence, and the 2.5 kids hadn’t materialized yet – and probably never would since she and Xander would probably never touch each again – but here she was, living the dream.

So why was she crying all of a sudden?

“Buffy,” Xander said softly.

She turned to look at him, her eyes still swollen and red.

“What are we going to do?” he sighed.

“I can’t get an abortion,” she said firmly. “I just can’t.”

He nodded in agreement. “Adoption?” he suggested.

“I don’t know,” she sighed raggedly.

“It—He, she doesn’t deserve this,” he pointed out. “What we have.”

“Let me think about it,” Buffy requested.

He nodded and couldn’t help but let out a wry laugh himself. “Lost Love’s Child,” he joked lightly.

She turned away from him, still fighting against the notion that she _had_ a ‘lost love’.

“I ran into Jonathan yesterday,” he began again conversationally.

Buffy looked back at him, curious again at what he was saying. “He still with the coven in San Francisco?”

“Yup,” Xander nodded. He paused for a moment. “He saw Anya just a week ago.”

“Oh?”

“She’s got this thing with a Sentry Demon two dimensions over.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Spike made Vicky his mate,” Buffy spoke up, joining in the regretfest.

“When?”

“Just before our wedding.”

“He didn’t say anything.”

“No,” Buffy sighed. “Dawn knew, though. She only told me when I asked how the two of them were doing.”

“She still mad?”

“A bit. She said she was glad at least one of us got out of the self torture and found happiness…”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

 _“Let’s go,” she finally said, taking cheap’n’easy vamp’s hand and leading him away from the dance floor and out into the night._

 _He looked confused and slightly worried now. This was definitely not a normal hunt. “What—?” he began when she shoved him up against the brick wall outside._

 _Buffy cut him off, ravaging his lips with her own. Luckily, he caught on fast. He gripped her hips with powerful hands and twisted them around so that he pinned her to the wall. He tongue plunged deep into her mouth, cool and wild…_

 _Buffy shut her eyes tight and ran her fingers through his hair, the ebony locks turning platinum blond in her mind’s eye. She moaned into his mouth and rubbed herself up against him in all the right places._

 _He hissed in response, and she took the opportunity to breathe._

 _“Spike…” she gasped huskily, her eyes still closed, refusing to break the illusion._

 _“Huh?” Boy toy vamp was apparently stupider than he’d first appeared._

 _“Just shut up and play along,” Buffy informed him harshly, “and you’ll get what you want…”_

* * *

“They’re _demons_ ,” Xander said bitterly, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a deep swig.

“They’re evil,” Buffy agreed softly. “They can’t feel, can’t love, don’t deserve… Oh god!” She burst out into fresh tears.

Xander sighed. “Anya hasn’t killed a single person since she got her powers back,” he finally commented. “Did you know that? Hallie’s got her cleaning up the messes that other vengeance demons accidentally create. If anything, she’s _helping_ people…”

“I-I always thought that the only reason he did anything good was to impress me,” Buffy whispered, curled up in a little ball on the sofa. “And then he goes and gets the chip out and continues hunting demons? It’s not fair,” she insisted. “If he was good, th-there should have been a label or something so I would’ve known that he was OK.”

“Maybe they’ve all got some good in ‘em,” Xander said soberly before taking another swig, “and we were just too stupid to see it.”

“We’re heartless,” she sighed.

“Evil,” he agreed.

“They should call _us_ ‘demons’…”

* * *

 _“Not yet,” Buffy pulled the nameless vamp’s mouth away from her throat._

 _His eyes flashed yellow for a second in anger, but she quickly pulled him in for another kiss, her eyes shut once more, savoring the lightest flickers of flame that rose in her belly at the feel of cool lips against hers._

 _She didn’t have much more time. He would grow impatient. If he were the real Spike, he would have lost his patience already… Or maybe not. That was the one thing Spike had always been able to wait for. Her. He’d told her once that she deserved it._

 _“OK,” Buffy said when she pulled away for breath once more. “Go ahead.” And she bared her throat to him…_

* * *

She had had a miscarriage.

I hadn’t been intentional, and she’d cried like crazy for weeks afterwards, but perhaps it had been a blessing in disguise.

She and Xander had been seeing less and less of each other ever since. They were no longer living together. They were officially separated. They were just friends.

Just like they always should have been.

The suburban house with the white picket fence was slipping right through her fingers, and she’d never been so happy to see anything go in her life.

It had been so… _normal_. Boring.

And then one night she finally stumbled across what she’d been missing all along.

She’d been sitting at a table in a dark corner of the Bronze, listening to the depressing music and generally feeling sorry for herself. And then… _he_ had been there.

He slid into the seat across from her, a tempting smile on his lips and began to flirt with her.

She had known instantly what he was. She may not have had her Slayer senses for nearly a year now, but she still had a bit of a knack for spotting vamps, apparently.

And, surprisingly, it had just feel so _good_ to flirt back…

This was what she needed, what she wanted…

* * *

 _She cried out in pain when his fangs pierced her throat, twin needle pricks. The pain slowly faded as he began to drink her life force, however. Sensations built within her, rising up to the surface, making her feel strong and alive once more._

 _A blinding flash of pleasure overcame her, and she clutched his body to her, enjoying the feel of cool, hard muscles beneath her palms._

 _And then it happened._

 _They began to merge. Psyches melded. Experiences, desires, life blended into one._

 _And she became painfully aware that this was not the being she truly wanted to join with. He was just an imitation, and she could no longer pretend._

 _He pulled back in surprise just as the stake pierced his heart, dissolving into a shocked pile of dust._

 _Buffy winced, feeling the fresh bite mark on her throat. It was on the right side. Good. All but one of her marks had been on that side. But Spike was a southpaw; he’d come in to the left, and she wanted to keep that space open for him to…_

 _What? She chided herself. Her chance was gone. She’d never get to experience the true heights of pain/pleasure he could bring her to._

 _He’d only wanted to that one time, their first night together. He’d wanted to complete their union, make them one. At the time, she’d managed to say something like ‘not now; maybe later’ and he’d left it at that. After all, he’d thought they had all the time in the world, and she’d let him believe that, just for that first night..._

 _But still, if she couldn’t have Spike’s mark there, she wouldn’t have any at all._

 _With a sigh, she looked at the dust before her and slipped the stake back into her pocket. It looked like tonight wasn’t going to be the night she died after all._

 _Oh well._

 _Maybe next time._

* * *

“Buffy, you’ve got to stop doing this,” Xander pleaded with her, his hands griping her shoulders tightly as he stared in horror at the bite marks on her throat.

“Why?” she asked bitterly. “It’s the way I was always meant to go. Why bother putting it off?”

“You don’t want to let them do this,” he insisted.

“Yes, I do!” she screamed, pulling away from him.

“No, you don’t,” he said sadly. “You want him.”

“This never should have happened,” she retorted. “I shouldn’t have been so cold to him. I should’ve…”

“What’s done is done,” Xander stated the plain, simple fact.

“But I miss him so much,” she said, tears streaming down her face…

* * *

 _Buffy walked back into her house, her mind and body numb._

 _Xander leapt up from where he was failing to sleep on the couch at the door’s slam and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw she was OK._

 _“Not tonight?” he ventured to ask._

 _“No. Go home, Xander,” she reassured him. “I’m fine.”_

 _“No, Buffy,” he said with a slight frown. “No, you’re not…”_

 _Still, he left without protest._

 _Buffy climbed the stairs one at a time, slowly making her way to the bed she’d never let him in. She curled up on the mattress, propping up the pillow beside her so that it approximated a cool body and rested against it._

 _She just lay there, staring blankly at the wall for quite some time._

 _Then, so softly that even she could hear it, four words escaped her lips for the very first time:_

 _“I love you, Spike.”_


End file.
